


Homecoming

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Cheesy, Community: trope_bingo, Fluff and Humor, M/M, other characters appear briefly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: Modern au. The night before Thomas left for a year in Paris, James drunkenly confessed his feelings – or at least he thinks he did. Now Thomas is returning home and James is in a panic, doubting that Thomas feels the same way he does. Perhaps the welcome home party will help them face up to the truth – if Alexander doesn't get in the way.





	Homecoming

James paced the airport lounge, dabbing at his forehead with a cloth handkerchief. Everyone teased him about it but paper ones were wasteful and besides they tended to stick and leave embarrassing bits of tissue on his head, so tasteful white linen it was.

James was prone to sweating, especially when he was nervous, and today he was sweating profusely.

It had been a year since he'd seen Thomas in person and it had been almost as terrible as he'd feared. He knew that the offer to be a guest lecturer at Sciences Po, the prestigious Paris Institute of Political Sciences, was an opportunity that Thomas wouldn't dare pass up, but 365 days apart was a hardship that James had not wanted to bear.

"Uh, we can Skype," Thomas had said dismissively when James had tried to explain his fears. As if that was the same thing.

There were phone calls and messages and video chats, and emails had been exchanged. There were postcards from Thomas sometimes, and because he was old school in more than just his choice of handkerchiefs, letters written by James.

None of it was as satisfying as being with Thomas in person. To sit quietly in a corner of a room and talk, openly and honestly.

Now Thomas was finally coming home and James was in a panic.

In all the months they'd been apart they'd not spoken about their last night together and Thomas's bon voyage party. The evening had begun with their friends present but as the night drew on they were left blissfully alone.

They'd talked about their plans, Thomas promising to send postcards, James promising to keep applying for senior policy analyst posts and try to get the promotion he deserved. The time would fly by, Thomas declared.

"I'll still miss you," James said and, leaning in close, "I love you."

At least he thought he had. They were both pretty drunk and maybe James had imagined his declaration of love.

Either way, Thomas had stared at him, eyes somewhat unfocussed, a broad smile on his face. "I'll miss you too."

James had suffered many a sleepless night wondering if he'd spoken the words aloud, and, if so, if Thomas had heard them. If he had, why hadn't he reciprocated but instead brushed James's feelings aside?

Maybe Thomas knew James loved him but hadn't wanted to refuse him under the circumstances, not wanting them to part on bad terms. That was almost thoughtful.

But it still hurt.

Given that seemed a likely explanation, James had never broached the subject. The closest he came was in a letter where he talked of organising a welcome home party and how everyone had enjoyed the leaving party. How he'd still missed Thomas and could not wait to see him again.

"I got ur letter. Me too! PARTAY!" was the text message James got back in return.

He'd sworn to himself that once Thomas was back he'd tell him the truth. He'd make sure to say the words aloud and if Thomas didn't love him, then fine. At least he'd know for sure. His courage was already failing however.

James's heart skipped a beat as he saw Thomas approaching him, expensive sunglasses perched on his nose, long coat swishing around his knees. He had a small bag on one shoulder and was dragging a suitcase behind him.

"Thomas," James called, waving to him.

And then Alexander Hamilton showed up.

"Thomas!" Alexander charged up to Thomas, enveloping him in a hug. Thomas stood, encumbered with his luggage, unable to extricate himself.

"Hey, Alex. Good to see you too," Thomas said.

James felt his heart sink. He had a sneaking suspicion that Thomas had a thing for Alexander. Opposites attracted and so on. The men could fight like cat and dog but they were both intelligent and articulate and enjoyed their verbal sparring. Sparks of any kind could lead to romance. James never felt he had enough spark.

Alexander drew back, beaming. "We have planned the most wonderful soiree to celebrate your return."

Somehow Alexander made "we" sound like "I". In fact James had done most of the work, sorting the good ideas from the bad – and Alexander tended to brainstorm a lot so there were plenty of both – with Angelica as the acknowledged voice of reason, having the final say. James had booked the venue, ordered the decorations and the food and drink. Angelica and her sisters were responsible for arranging the music and sending invitations. George was in charge of organising transport. Alexander took responsibility for the money everyone put into the pot and made sure the deposits were paid and that there was enough to cover the final costs. Burr had made a donation but refused to get involved with any of the practicalities.

"Great!" Thomas dropped his bag to the floor and released the suitcase handle. "Would you grab those, Alex? Thanks! Oh, there's like five or six more on the carousel but I couldn't carry them all. Maybe find a porter? You're the best!"

Alex was gobsmacked but, refusing to appear incapable of handling the situation, took up the bag and the suitcase and stalked off towards baggage claim. James coughed into his handkerchief to hide his pleasure.

"James!" Thomas embraced him and James felt his cheeks warm.

"I missed you," James said.

"Of course you did." Thomas took off his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket. "So what did I miss?"

"Not that much that I haven't already told you about."

Thomas laughed. 

 

*

The party was a huge success. The food was superb and the drinks plentiful.

Thomas had brought back gifts from Paris; leather-bound notepads for Alexander, a silverware set for George who was famed for his dinner parties, perfume for Peggy, and chocolates for Eliza. Angelica was the grateful recipient of some original copies of French novels. And there were some beautiful monogrammed handkerchiefs for James.

James tried not to show his disappointment. It was a thoughtful and personalised present. It was just that handkerchiefs were a little less impressive than most of the other gifts. He had expected a little more from his closest friend.

After the food, everyone enjoyed the music. Alexander in particular was showing off his skills on the dance floor, or making a fool of himself, depending on your point of view. Thomas made some jokes about the wine, fancying himself a connoisseur after his sojourn in France.

James, mopping at his face, went outside for a breath of air. Thomas joined him.

"Thank you for throwing me this party," he said.

"I'm glad you're having fun."

Thomas nodded. "I missed you too," he said with unmistakable sincerity.

James perked up. "You did?"

Thomas punched him on the arm, playfully. "Of course I did! You're my dearest friend."

James tried to hold in his disappointment.

"Question is, do you want something different?" Thomas stepped in close. "You picked a really bad time to confess your feelings. I wasn't sure if you even meant to. We were both crazy drunk. And we didn't have time to discuss it and what it would mean to our friendship. But now we do have the time."

James nodded, swallowed hard. "I meant it."

Thomas smiled, stroked James's cheek. "I know I can be a little much to deal with. If I'd told you first, you'd have freaked out because you worry so much, and would have doubted my enthusiasm. But now you've been brave and said it first, let me say it. I love you, James Madison."

"Really?" James didn’t mean to sound so desperate.

"Yes! Now give me a kiss!"

Their first kiss was long and hard and glorious.

"You know I brought you something else back from France?" Thomas asked softly.

"Yes?" James's heart quickened.

"Me."

James was torn between the implied sweetness and the actual cheapness. Thomas dissolved into laughter at the look at James's face. "Man, come on! No, really. I got some mac and cheese. You love that stuff!"

James was about ten seconds from reconsidering his affection for Thomas at all.

"You boys are missing the party," Angelica called, standing in the doorway. "And we've got a song picked out just for you to dance to."

"Be there in a moment," Thomas called over his shoulder. He returned his attention to James. "Honestly, James, I've got about seven t-shirts and tons of touristy souvenirs for you and a whole load of random gifts I brought throughout the year and forgot about until I was packing. Not to mention a whole crate of wine to share with you!"

Their second kiss was conciliatory. The third was passionate.

"We have to get back inside," Thomas said. He held out his hand. "Come and dance with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask," James said.

**Author's Note:**

> For the trope bingo prompt au: romance novel  
> Thanks to maerzkindt for brainstorming gift ideas and tinamour for putting up with multiple versions of the suitably cheesey cover pic until we found one that worked!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr promo post](http://meridianrose.tumblr.com/post/161896301861/homecoming-modern-au-the-night-before-thomas-left)


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